


Ima heat my soul

by vogue91



Category: Hey! Say! JUMP, Johnny's Entertainment
Genre: Angst, Confrontations, Fights, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 19:43:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14776032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vogue91/pseuds/vogue91
Summary: A stroke. A flash. The flame.A few seconds, then the heat reached his hand, and when he started to think he was going to get burnt, the flame died out on its own.





	Ima heat my soul

A stroke. A flash. The flame.

A few seconds, then the heat reached his hand, and when he started to think he was going to get burnt, the flame died out on its own.

He lit another one up. Then another one.

He kept looking at that flame, fascinated.

It was a better option than looking in front of him, than seeing Yamada’s questioning look, that having to face an argument with him.

Chinen talked way too much when stuff wasn’t important, and he always chose silence when they were.

And that night, they truly were.

He and Yamada were inside a hotel room, close to the Dome.

Once the Countdown had come to an end, they had a few hours before they had to go to the studios to shoot their new promotional video.

Too little for them going home being practical, and their destination was much closer from there.

They had taken this decision before the fight, but Yuri was still glad of it.

He was glad of being there, on a neutral field.

He was glad he could sit on that armchair, consuming a matchstick after the other, staring at that flame, almost hoping it would've burnt him, almost hoping it was going to wake him up from the numbness he had felt since he had stepped inside the room.

He didn’t want to talk to Ryosuke, but he knew he was going to have to, sooner or later.

That probably wasn’t the right moment.

Four hours from then they were supposed to get out again, and it would've been advisable to try and get some sleep.

But he knew he wasn’t going to, not with the million thoughts going through his mind.

They had been arguing for weeks. And even though Chinen admitted, at least to himself, that he had been the one starting it, he was sure that Yamada had his fair share of responsibility as well.

Because he had told him times and times again, so often that he was tired of hearing himself talk; but Ryosuke always seemed to miss the point, he seemed to ignore the way he felt, he seemed to forget his words the moment he stepped outside their apartment.

And Yuri, tired of always having to repeat the same things, this time was going to wait for him to speak first.

By the corner of his eye he could see him, sitting on the bed and watching him, a serious look on his face.

Chinen waited.

“How long do you plan to ignore me?” Yamada asked in the end, while Yuri let the flame float in front of his eyes, without minding him.

“I've got nothing to say.” he lied, half-smiling.

He was incredibly mad at Ryosuke, and he had no intention of hiding it. He didn’t want to complain yet another time, being automatically told he was right and pretend that everything was fine, that it was solved.

If Yamada really wanted to fix it, let him take the first step then.

He saw the elder getting up and joining him, taking the matchstick from his hand, unceremoniously throwing it into the ashtray.

“Look at me, Yuri.” he murmured, taking his face in his hand.

Chinen pulled abruptly away from his hold, then he stood up.

“What is it, Ryosuke?” he hissed, only a few centimetres away from his face. “Want to talk? Want to keep fighting? Then I'm listening.” he provoked him, disdainful.

The other sighed, going back to sit on the bed and raising his eyes on him.

“Tell me what is it you want from me, Chii. Tell me what you want me to say, what you want me to do, what I can do to make you happy, because it seems clear to me that I don’t know!” he said, almost begging.

“I'm not the one who should say, Ryosuke. I wish that after all the time you and I have been together you’d be able to realize how to make me happy without me having to explain it.” he said, tired, then he made a sarcastic smile. “But perhaps I ask way too much of you.”

Yamada’s lips thinned, he clenched his fists as if to avoid doing or saying something he was going to regret.

Chinen kept looking at him, then he sighed and went back playing with the matchsticks.

There were a few left, but until he would've burnt himself, he was going to keep doing that.

There was silence for a while, and again the elder was the one to talk first.

“Do you think I didn’t try?” he asked, sounding tired. “Do you believe I haven’t thought about how to do just that? That I didn’t make an effort so that you wouldn’t be able to recriminate?” he sighed, brushing a hand over his face. “But no matter what I do, it’s never going to be the right thing, is it, Yuri? It’s bad when I pay too much attention to you, it’s bad when I pay too little of it. It’s not okay if I'm close to you, it’s not okay if I keep a distance. And know you’ve brought up this Yuto thing, that I spend too much time with him and that you feel neglected.” he listed, his voice getting louder as he spoke. “So why are you even surprised when I ask you what is it you want from me, Yuri?” he asked, getting up and staring at him.

Yuri didn’t say anything.

He lit up another matchstick, and it was the last one.

He kept his wrist still, trying his best not to move it, looking at the flame consuming the wood, until it got close to his fingers.

He clenched his teeth feeling the burn, but it was just a moment, and then even the last matchstick died out, and he looked at the elder indifferently, as if nothing that he had said made sense or mattered.

“No one forces you to keep trying, Ryosuke.” he said, flat.

There were too many things he wanted to say to him.

He wanted to tell him he didn’t do that on purpose.

He wanted to tell him that he made him happy, that it didn’t matter how many times he got mad or complained, nothing changed for him.

He wouldn’t have called that proper happiness, perhaps, but when he was with Yamada he felt good.

But he kept quiet.

He didn’t feel like talking, explaining, telling him everything that went through his mind.

Telling him he loved him, because even though it was supposed to be all that mattered, it still felt inappropriate to say that now.

The elder breathed heavily, and Yuri knew him well enough to know he was trying not to cry.

“You’re right, Yuri. No one forces me to keep trying.” he murmured. “And no once forces me to be by your side, if you won't do anything to keep me here.” he added.

He hesitated for a moment, and the younger knew he was expecting to be stopped.

Let him wait, then.

He wasn’t going to do anything.

Yamada quickly grabbed his stuff, getting out of the room without saying anything else.

He slammed the door behind his back, hard, and Chinen instinctively closed his eyes at the loud noise.

A tear fell.

Than another, and another one.

He didn’t want for him to leave, but he didn’t want to be the one to stop him.

He wanted Ryosuke to decide that nothing mattered enough to make him leave that room, to make him leave Yuri.

Perhaps, though, the elder was right.

He didn’t know what he wanted, and then he demanded too much to really expect someone to deal with his whims, with his childishness, with his being cryptic.

He had hoped Ryosuke could, but he couldn’t blame him for it.

He distractedly looked at the ashtray, full of the burnt wood of the matchsticks.

Then he looked at the red spot on his finger, and the light mark of the burning.

It hurt, but that didn’t matter either.

He brought his knees to his chest, resting his chin on them.

He dried up his eyes, keeping them fixated on the door.

But he wasn’t going to delude himself.

It wasn’t going to open again.


End file.
